


Release

by ficbear



Category: Sengoku Basara
Genre: Anal Sex, Aphrodisiacs, Blood, Bondage, Collars, Comeplay, Dom/sub, Dream Sex, Insomnia, Leashes, M/M, Oral Sex, Size Differences, Size Kink, Threesome - M/M/M, Wet Dream, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-10
Updated: 2012-03-10
Packaged: 2017-11-01 18:33:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,627
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/359955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ficbear/pseuds/ficbear
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He knows then for certain that this is a dream, that only a dream could bring him happiness as sweet as this. It doesn't matter, though. Even the illusion of pleasure is better than nothing, and Mitsunari gives himself up to the dream wholeheartedly. He smiles up at Hanbei and Hideyoshi, his eyes damp with the beginning of tears, basking in their attention as if they are the sun and moon, shining down on him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Release

The bed might as well be carved from stone. Mitsunari shifts restlessly beneath the bedclothes, forcing his eyes to close once more every time they inevitably drift open. Staring at the ceiling, at the walls of his bedchamber, and out through the window into the blank, grey sky only makes his frustration worse. Half the night has already passed, by the time Mitsunari's thoughts finally turn to the bottle on the table.

 _"A simple tincture, nothing very special, but it will help you sleep,"_ Yoshitsugu had said, as he passed the little vial to Mitsunari. _"The stress of the campaign is bound to have some detrimental effects."_

They both know that the stress of battle is not what keeps Mitsunari awake night after night, but the pretence allows Mitsunari to keep at least a little of his dignity, and he is quietly grateful for that. As unnerving as it is that Yoshitsugu sees through him so unerringly, at least he has the tact not to say the words out loud.

Added to water, the tincture is clear and undetectable. Mitsunari stares into his cup, at the apparently innocuous liquid in it, and wonders exactly what he's about to drink. Of course, having been around Yoshitsugu for as long as he has, he knows very well that the concoction is more than a simple sedative. But what else is there, lurking in the mixture? Mitsunari drains the cup dry hurriedly, and sets it aside; whatever Yoshitsugu has given him, he is beyond the point of caring.

 

* * *

 

"Thank you, my lord." Mitsunari can barely keep the emotion out of his voice. Being this close to Lord Hideyoshi and Lord Hanbei, being congratulated so effusively on his victory, is almost more joy than he can withstand.

"Have we ever had such a loyal officer?"

Hanbei's voice glides over him like silk, and one gloved hand rests lightly on Mitsunari's cheek. He knows then for certain that this is a dream, that only a dream could bring him happiness as sweet as this. It doesn't matter, though. Even the illusion of pleasure is better than nothing, and Mitsunari gives himself up to the dream wholeheartedly. He smiles up at Hanbei and Hideyoshi, his eyes damp with the beginning of tears, basking in their attention as if they are the sun and moon, shining down on him.

The scene changes, and Mitsunari finds himself seated opposite Hanbei in some richly-decorated inner chamber, the likes of which he's never seen before. They drink a toast to Hideyoshi, who watches them from his seat on the dais, and the wine burns sweet and sharp on his tongue. Hanbei's robes are almost indecently thin and loose, and Mitsunari can't keep his eyes from wandering across the delicate features of the strategist's face and down, inevitably down, over the half-bared flesh of his torso. Reaching out across the table, Hanbei grabs hold of his wrist and pulls the young officer towards him, drawing him into a kiss that surprises Mitsunari with its depth and hunger. How long must Hanbei have wanted him, to kiss him like this?

The kiss melts away, and the scene changes again. Now Mitsunari is naked and kneeling, his forehead pressed to the ground at Hideyoshi's feet. He can hear the sound of metal whistling through the air, and then a blaze of pain stabs through him, as Hanbei's whip-sword slices across his back.

"Thank you, my lord," Mitsunari says, his voice ragged with pain and gratitude. He can feel the blood running down across the skin of his back, streaking hot and red across his flesh, proving his devotion. "Please," he begs, desperate to be strengthened, purified by the whip's touch, "please, my lord, give me more…"

He can feel Hideyoshi's eyes on him, and it feels like fire against his lacerated flesh; Hanbei's blows open him up, and Hideyoshi's gaze delves into each wound, until it feels as if there is no inch of him, inside or out, that they have not claimed between them. Mitsunari cries out his thanks again and again, as the whip savages him, praising his lord until his voice is hoarse and pained from the exertion.

"My lord," he almost sobs, "I… I…"

But the scene has changed again before Mitsunari can get the words out, and he finds himself now dressed again, and standing before Hideyoshi in the midst of battle. He can hear the sound of men fighting and dying, impossibly loud through the walls of the tent, and Hideyoshi looks as if he has come straight from the battlefield himself; streaks of blood cover his armour, and even the bare skin of Hideyoshi's face is flecked with crimson. The scent of battle hangs in the air around him, and Mitsunari's body is ablaze with the lust it inspires.

"Kneel." Hideyoshi commands, pushing down on Mitsunari's shoulders with both hands.

He sinks to his knees, overcome with desire, watching hungrily as Hideyoshi bares his cock. The wait is excruciating, and when his lord finally presses the head of his cock to Mitsunari's lips, the young officer moans in delight. The taste of Hideyoshi's skin, the weight of his shaft laying heavy and hot against Mitsunari's tongue, the scent of him, is more thrilling than the young man could ever have imagined, and he paws clumsily at his own body, rubbing himself feverishly as the head of his lord's cock batters against the back of his throat.

"Good boy," a soft voice says, and suddenly Mitsunari feels two slender hands gripping his hair, guiding his head expertly as it moves. "Pleasure Lord Hideyoshi, and then you'll pleasure me."

The ground beneath Mitsunari is no longer that of the battlefield, and instead he can feel the softness of pillows beneath his knees. He is naked again, and as he reaches out to his lord, he feels bare skin where there had been blood-speckled armour. Mitsunari kneels by the side of Hideyoshi's reclining body, bending over his lap to suck greedily at the older man's cock. He is mirrored in every action by Hanbei, who kneels opposite him, equally naked and equally hungry in his attentions. The two young men work together fluidly, sucking and licking at Hideyoshi's flesh with perfect coordination, and a shiver courses through Mitsunari's body each time his lips brush against the strategist's mouth.

"What a talented tongue…" Hanbei says with a wicked smile, and moves up to suck on the head of Hideyoshi's cock while Mitsunari laps at the shaft, watching the young officer's tongue as it works over each inch of hard flesh. Hideyoshi rests one hand on each young man's rear, toying with them idly as they pleasure him, and the touch of his fingers makes Mitsunari tremble. He wants to beg, to beseech his lord to finally take him, but he can't find the words. All Mitsunari can do is groan pitifully, and suck harder at his lord's cock, praying that Hideyoshi will take mercy on him.

Then the flesh beneath his lips is gone, and once more he is kneeling at his lord's feet. Hanbei stands beside Hideyoshi, who is sitting on the most ornate throne Mitsunari has ever seen. The look of sheer satisfaction in his lord's face, the jubilant power that exudes from him, makes it clear that this is the moment of Hideyoshi's victory. The land now belongs to him, unified under his boot, and all bow before him. Hanbei stands at his side, his face glittering with pleasure, and at his feet is the chained and ragged figure of Ieyasu.

"You!" Mitsunari hisses, but the eyes that stare up at him from Ieyasu's bruised face are not the brightly obstinate eyes he has glared into so many times before. These are the eyes of a subjugated man; they are wet with tears and wide with guilt, with shame, with the knowledge that he is utterly wrong and deserves every moment of torment he suffers. They are the eyes of a dog, and Mitsunari can't help but laugh as he basks in their pathetic gaze.

"Mitsunari," Hideyoshi says, his voice deep as thunder, "this victory would have been impossible without you. With you and Hanbei beside me, there is nothing I cannot achieve."

"My lord!" Mitsunari cries, bowing his head to the floor. "My lord, I-"

The scene of victory is gone as suddenly as it had appeared, and Mitsunari is plunged into a pleasure so overwhelming that he cries out as if wounded. Hanbei lies beneath him, naked and smiling, and he can feel the solid heat of Hideyoshi's body behind him. He can barely move; his arms are bound to his sides, locked in place by countless strands of rope, and the heavy collar around his neck is an inescapable reminder of his place.

"Harder, Mitsunari." Hanbei orders, yanking on the length of chain that hangs from the young officer's collar. Mitsunari does as he's told, fucking the strategist in long, deep strokes. Hanbei's flesh is perfectly hot, soft and smooth around his cock, gripping and stroking his shaft like the most skilled hand, as Mitsunari fucks him. It's almost too much, and the young officer marvels at his own self-control; only in a dream could anyone resist the pleasure of Hanbei's flesh for so long.

Without warning, he feels the cool touch of oil dripping along the cleft of his ass, trickling down across his thighs. Strong hands grip his buttocks, spreading them wide, and the pad of one thumb traces across the mouth of his ass, rubbing oil into the puckered muscle until Mitsunari is whimpering with hunger.

"Please…" He groans, pushing back against Hideyoshi's hand. "Please, my lord…"

Hideyoshi's laughter rumbles, and in moments the touch of his thumb is replaced by the blunt, relentless pressure of his cock, pushing inescapably against Mitsunari's flesh. The young officer squirms and gasps as his lord's cock forces its way inside him inch by inch, rigid and unyielding, impossible to deny.

"Lord Hideyoshi!" Mitsunari cries out, throwing his head back against the older man's chest, as the last inch of hard flesh sinks inside him. His own cock twitches and throbs inside Hanbei, and for a moment the feeling is so intense that he can't move at all. He is caught between the two of them, impaled on his lord's cock and buried to the hilt in Hanbei's ass, drowning in sensation and incoherent with pleasure.

"Lord Hanbei…" He moans, beginning to move once more. "Lord Hideyoshi… Please…"

Hanbei laughs, light and softly mocking. "Not yet, Mitsunari."

The strategist slips one hand down between them, and Mitsunari can't suppress a groan as he watches Hanbei begin to stroke his own cock. Those delicate fingers curl around his shaft and move slowly, lazily, as if Hanbei has all the time in the world. Mitsunari watches the path of the strategist's hand, and pulls instinctively against the ropes binding him. If only he could touch Hanbei himself, if only he could slip down and take the strategist's cock in his mouth, he could pleasure Hanbei with the thoroughness he really deserves. Being denied the chance to serve him completely is worse than any beating the strategist could give Mitsunari, and all the young officer can do is watch.

"Hold still, boy." Hideyoshi commands, seizing hold of Mitsunari's shoulders to fix him in place. No longer content to let Mitsunari set the pace, Hideyoshi begins to move inside him, and the force of his lord's thrusts drives a torrent of whimpers and yelps from the young officer. Mitsunari bites his lip, trying to stifle his cries, but it's useless. He closes his eyes, leaning into Hideyoshi's grip, and gives himself up entirely to the feeling.

Hanbei's palm strikes the young officer's face, sudden and sharp. "Don't forget about me, Mitsunari…"

Mitsunari's cheek burns with the force of the blow, and he can feel his eyes dampening with the beginning of tears. How can he please them both? How can he possibly win their approval?

Grabbing hold of a handful of Mitsunari's hair, Hideyoshi yanks his head back roughly, leaving him in no doubt as to whose orders he should follow first. "Move faster, Mitsunari," his lord orders. "Hanbei is close now. Keep going until he's satisfied."

"Yes, my lord!" Mitsunari cries, fucking the strategist in short, brisk thrusts. He can feel his heart pounding in his chest, his pulse throbbing in his limbs, and the pleasure building rapidly in his own body, until Hanbei finally arches his back and cries out, hoarse with pleasure, as he climaxes. Mitsunari watches, transfixed, drinking in the sight greedily until the last convulsion has passed.

"Here, Mitsunari." The strategist lifts his hand up, and presses his fingers to Mitsunari's lips. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

"Go ahead," Hideyoshi says, giving the young officer another hard thrust. "Come for me, Mitsunari."

The taste of Hanbei's come is sharp and rich and irresistible, and it pushes Mitsunari helplessly over the edge. He moans against the strategist's fingers, sucking at them hungrily as he begins to climax, swallowing Hanbei's come as his own seed sprays deep inside the strategist.

"Good boy." Hideyoshi's voice is taut with pleasure as he begins to fuck Mitsunari harder, ratcheting up his pace as soon as Hanbei has slipped out from beneath the young officer. One broad hand grasps Mitsunari's hair, shoving his head down to the floor and pinning him in place. "You're going to take it all, aren't you, Mitsunari?"

"Yes, Lord Hideyoshi!" The young man cries out breathlessly. Spread wide open and pinioned in place, speared by his lord's cock and shaken by every stroke of those powerful hips, Mitsunari almost sobs with pleasure. It's too brutal, too perfectly merciless to be anything other than a fantasy, but he pushes that thought away. Hideyoshi is no mere dream; his lord is here with him, victorious and supremely powerful, just as it should be. Hanbei is with them, aiding his lord and inspiring Mitsunari, just as it should be. Ieyasu has been beaten, prevented from ever betraying them, and rots in a prison cell, just as it should be.

"My lord, please…" Mitsunari whimpers, "please, give me what I deserve…"

Hideyoshi groans in satisfaction, and Mitsunari's body blazes with joy as he feels the heat of his lord's come flooding into him. His own cock twitches and throbs, forced into another climax by the relentless pounding of Hideyoshi's thrusts, and Mitsunari cries out as if dying. The convulsions wrack his body, and he pushes back against Hideyoshi's hips as the waves of pleasure shudder through him, desperate to hold onto the moment, hungry for even just one second more of his lord's touch.

"My lord, please!" He begs, feeling it all slipping away. "Please…"

 

* * *

 

Mitsunari wakes, damp with sweat and sticky with his own come, just as the sky is beginning to brighten. He has slept, certainly, but his muscles ache and his head spins when he pushes himself upright, as if he had spent the night drinking. But despite the ache in his limbs, despite the heaviness of his head and the discomfort gnawing at the pit of his stomach, he regrets nothing. As he dresses for battle, the vision of his lord's face is still vivid in his mind, and he can still feel the touch of Hideyoshi's body against his. The sound of Hanbei's voice still rings in his ears, and the taste of the strategist still echoes on his tongue.

And most of all, Mitsunari can still see the pain in the captured Ieyasu's eyes, the defeat in that stooped, tormented, conquered body. Yoshitsugu's tincture might not have given Mitsunari rest, but it has brought him something much sweeter.


End file.
